Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) (10 page)

His pupils dilated and he slowly lifted his gaze to
hers. Throat dry, she swallowed, catching her bottom lip between
her teeth. Almost as if the scene played in slow motion on a movie
screen, he tossed his glasses on her hall table, dropped the bags
to the floor, and swept her up against his hard, lean body.

“Damn,” he muttered as he lowered his mouth to hers.
She burned everywhere. Her hands left behind the modest job of
keeping her robe closed and sought the heat of his broad shoulders
and silky hair. He deepened the kiss, bending her back over his
arm. A shock of pure pleasure ripped through her and she fought to
keep a grasp on her sanity. His lips trailed down her neck and
pushed her robe open. Nan refused to open her eyes; refused to
acknowledge that this wasn't a fantasy. This was real.

"You are so damn beautiful," he said. Cool air and
his heated breath brushed over her breasts and she knew what he was
seeing, knew without looking that she lay naked and open to him.
The dampness of his tongue slid along her chest and inched closer
to her aching nipple. Then heat shot though her as she felt him
suck her nipple into his mouth.

Nan gulped in air. Blood roared in her ears. Her
back arched and his burning hand slipped beneath the robe, cupping
her sex. She moaned. He felt so good. Oh, how she needed his touch
there. She reached for him, pulled upon his shoulders, pressing her
sex against his hand.

His groan came from deep in his throat, primal,
sexual, and needy. "Let's take this to the bedroom, sugar."

A bed in a room with no window to a future her mind
screamed through the sensual haze enslaving her.

“We can’t,” Nan mumbled. He nipped her breast and
she moaned. “I have to go to work.”

“Double damn,” Jackson whispered as his mouth left
one breast and moved to the other. His finger slid against her,
pressing into her feminine folds and she moaned with need.

Nan knew that in another second she'd be lost. Work,
patients, responsibility, everything would cease to matter.

She straightened her back, forcing his mouth back up
to her neck. “I can’t. I need to dress,” she said, pulling back
from the fire consuming her alive. She pushed on his shoulders and
he straightened. They stared at each other. They'd gone further
than they had before. The fire between them had burned hotter than
ever before. He was breathing as heavy as she and looked as stunned
as she felt. He clenched his jaw; his full mouth fell into a grim
line, telling her how much his restraint was costing him.

Without a word he set her on her feet and pulled her
robe closed.

Nan scrambled for something to say. “Uh, you’ll find
fresh hot coffee in the coffee maker, cream in the fridge and sugar
on the table. I’ll…I'll be out in a jiffy.” After I take fifty cold
showers, she thought as she turned and ran.

Jackson reached for Nan as she left. Then let his
hands drop when she disappeared into the bedroom like a fuzzy
rabbit running from a fox. He drew in several ragged breaths of
air, counted to ten; then forced himself to retrieve the breakfast
he no longer desired.

He stood in the entryway for a long moment,
uncomfortable as hell. He didn't even have room for air in his
jeans.

Slowly the red haze of desire eased and he began to
notice his surroundings. Taking note of everything he passed on his
way to locating the kitchen. There was a multitude of plants
everywhere—palms and trees and flowers, potted plants, hanging
plants. You name it; Nan had it.

The kitchen was no different. Amongst the plants,
shades of soothing blues, bright whites, and cheery yellows greeted
him in the wallpaper, counters, and curtains. He ran a curious look
about, interested in what his surroundings could tell him about
their owner. She liked to care for things.

When he’d dated her, he’d avoided knowing personal
details, including going to her apartment. Sharing things like that
led a woman to believe he had more to offer than what he gave
between the sheets. So why was he here now? Just to give her a
ride.

So why the buns? Just to share a breakfast?

No. It was about damn time he started being honest
with himself. He was here because he couldn’t get Nan out of his
head. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted the fire between them to
burn him alive, to make him forget. Because when he was kissing
Nan, nothing else mattered, not even the past. And that felt
good.

It was a sexual thing. Nothing else.

Frowning, he thrust himself into the busy work of
setting up a cozy breakfast at Nan’s dinette table. He popped the
buns into the microwave to warm them, then set out two mugs of
coffee.

He had to bide his time this time around. Maybe with
a little room to breathe, she’d see things his way. They could
explore hot sex without getting caught up in issues of goals and
futures. The woman needed to loosen up and live the day for the
day, and he was the man to show her how to do it. Hot, sticky
cinnamon buns were the first step. Too bad she had to be at work
this morning.

A slight noise from the door had him spinning around
ready to give Nan the sensual breakfast of her life. Instead he met
wide yellow eyes that seemed to say; “I know what you’re up
to.”

The fluffy gray cat flicked its tail and bared its
teeth, as if to tell Jackson his plan was doomed. Jackson bared his
teeth, too, returning the favor. “What? You don’t think I’m the man
for the job?”

“Meow,” the cat replied. The microwave beeped and
Jackson pulled the steamy buns out, breathing deep of their rich
aroma. He looked back at the cat. “These tell a different story.
Before breakfast is over I’ll have her eating out of my hand. Wait
and see.”

Jackson set the buns on the table. Just as he was
about to sit down, the cat hopped into the chair. He gently brushed
the cat back to the floor. “Sorry bud, this is my place this
morning. You go find somewhere else to lounge.”

The cat flicked its tail and left the kitchen.
Turning his attention back to breakfast, Jackson realized he’d
forgotten to get cream from the fridge.

“The buns smell wonderful,” Nan said as she walked
into the room.

She brought with her a light fragrant cloud of
enticing honeysuckle and mint freshness, reminding him of the
honeysuckle bush not too far from the old cabin he lived in.
Sometimes on steamy, summer afternoons, he’d lay out by the creek
and revel in the warm sun and sweet smell.

A flash of making love to Nan in the hot sunshine,
in just that spot, shuddered through his mind. He blinked, bringing
Nan back into focus. She stood before him cool and collected. The
complete opposite of the wildly abandoned woman he’d kissed moments
ago. Dressed in efficient pristine nurse whites with her luxurious
sable hair pulled into a neat bun, she looked very professional and
very reserved.

“You smell wonderful, too. I love
honeysuckle.” He grinned at her and she smiled back at him. He
recalled pulling the centers from honeysuckle flowers as a kid and
licking the sweet nectar. He wanted to taste the sweet nectar of
Nan's center. She'd
taste even
better.

“Pardon?” Nan frowned and walked to where he was
staring mindlessly into the open refrigerator.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, the buns, I bet the buns
will taste even better.” He shifted his gaze back to the task of
finding cream, but the contents of the refrigerator blurred. Nan
was too close for rational thought. He hooked his thumbs into the
pocket of his jeans to ease the swelling tightness.

Maybe he should have just stayed
in bed this morning. A man needed all of his wits if he was going
to woo a woman like Nan into his bed. And he didn’t know if he was
up for
that
this
early in the morning.

“Can I help you find something?” Nan leaned in
beside him, peering into the fridge, wreaking more havoc on his
already scattered brain cells.

“Yeah.” Jackson exhaled roughly and centered his
gaze directly on hers. Her mouth formed a surprised “O” and her
pupils dilated, leaving her irises a warm honey brown. He wanted
her with a rawness that left him nearly undone. He straightened as
she did. They ended up only inches apart. She didn’t back away, and
he took that as a good sign.

Without moving his gaze from her face, he said,
“Your choice. You can either help me find cream for the coffee or
we can find your bed and get this craziness in our blood out of our
system now.”

Nan stepped back then, and Jackson cursed himself
for a fool. He had all the subtlety of a bulldozer. It was a wonder
she didn’t kick him and his buns out of her apartment. “Nan, I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so crude. It’s just all night I—“

“We need to hurry,” she said, business-like.

His jaw went slack with surprise. He didn’t have to
hurry; he was already ready. “I can do that. Which way to the
bedroom?” He reached for her.

She sidestepped away. “No. I, um, mean breakfast.
Here’s the cream.” She grabbed a carton from the fridge. He stepped
back as she firmly shut the refrigerator door. “I have a planning
meeting I need to attend before my shift starts and I have
to—Shakespeare! No!”

A suspiciously satisfied meow sounded across the
room. Jackson looked over. Shakespeare sat on the table licking his
left front paw. Bits of crystallizing white sugar clung to his
whiskers.

“He should have horns on his head,” Jackson
muttered, glaring at the cat.

Nan laughed and shooed the cat out of the
kitchen.

Cat-lick-denuded-cinnamon buns were all that was
left of the sensual breakfast he had planned. Hell, he should have
stayed in bed. Then he looked at Nan; saw the sparkle in her eyes;
the sexy curve of her smile, and changed his mind. Buns or no buns,
he was glad he had come.

Breakfast didn’t go exactly like he’d planned. They
had had to whip by the bakery and get coffee and fresh buns to go.
He now had a pleasantly satisfied sweet tooth and a sticky steering
wheel to show for it.

Forty quick minutes later, he pulled his pickup next
to Nan’s lonely hunter-green BMW at the Savannah Yacht Club.

Nan turned to him, hesitant. “I really appreciate
this morning. The breakfast and the ride, well, it was very
thoughtful. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He liked how she looked in the
early morning. Though she was too pale, giving evidence that she
spent more time working than she should, he liked how the bright
sunshine glinted off the golden lights in her brown hair. An inner
glow in her dark honey eyes challenged the new day and drew him to
her. Nan seemed to look at life much the same way he had a lifetime
ago, fresh, optimistic and hopeful. Everything he wasn’t now. He
had no business wanting her, wanting to touch and feel the breath
she gave to life. But he did.

She opened the door to get out, and he did the same,
walking around to her. She unlocked her door and leaned deep into
the car to drop her tote bag onto the passenger’s seat. The crisp
material of her white pants stretched across her bottom, outlining
the conservative, full cut of her panties. The complete opposite
from the underwear she’d worn last night. He grinned. Next time he
found Nan in a compromising position on the hood of his pickup, he
wouldn’t be so quick to rush her inside, even if it was storming.
There was something hot and elemental thinking about making love to
her in the rain. “You look better in a uniform than any nurse I’ve
ever seen.”

She straightened then frowned.
“What are your comparisons? The nurse in
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
? I
think waking up this early in the morning has you
delusional.”

He opened his mouth to tell her he’d seen plenty of
white uniforms, then shut it. That part of his life was over.

“Well, thanks again. It was, um, good to see you.”
She seemed a little nervous as she turned to get into the car.

“Yeah. Real good.” He caught her shoulder and turned
her back to him. “Not so fast, you have sugar on your mouth.”

“I do?” She reached up to brush away the crumb, but
he captured her hand in his before she could wipe it away. He
leaned down and laid his lips over the spot and licked. Sweet
heaven.

Nan stiffened slightly. “Jackson, we can’t.”

“We can’t?” he whispered back and slid his mouth
more in line with hers. He waited a moment to see if she’d pull
away. When she didn’t, he ran his tongue across her bottom lip,
softly, slowly, coaxing.

Her answer came in her sigh of surrender as her palm
flattened against his and their fingers intertwined. Her skin
heated and electrified his nerves, sending a shock straight to his
gut. Her lips parted, and he kissed her. Not hard, as the blood
racing through his veins urged, but tenderly, like the sun’s warmth
in the early morn. A deep moan worked its way up the back of his
throat as she sank into the kiss, wrapping her arms about his
neck.

When he could no longer hold back his desire, he
gently set her back on her feet, drew a deep breath, and tucked her
head into the crook of his shoulder.

After a moment he stepped back and cupped her chin
to brush his thumb across the last crumb of sugar clinging to her
mouth. Her lip trembled beneath his touch. “I meant what I said
last night. I want to make love to you. You and I would be
incredible.” He took her left hand and kissed her bare ring finger
to its tip. Then he nipped the sensitive pad with his teeth before
covering it completely with a soothing combination of his mouth and
lips. “We’re both free, consenting adults. We can, sugar. We
definitely can.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

She could.

She had to.

Next time Nan saw Jackson, she’d tell him they
couldn’t start seeing each other again. No more hot buns in the
morning, no more kisses. Since he’d left her off at her car after a
sticky bun breakfast yesterday, he’d intruded into her every
thought like a movie star filling up the big screen. His voice, his
every movement and every word lay amplified in her memory.